


fix him.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15337902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Loki catches some nasty virus, but En Dwi has the perfect, uh, not-doctor for him.





	fix him.

**Author's Note:**

> Frostmaster: “Please don’t leave me.” and/or “Please don’t die!” - Anonymous.

Loki lets out a low moan, feeling his head tip back against the examination table. He is gasping, crying: his skin is aflame,  _soaking_  with some unknown damp, and he can feel the nausea coil in his chest and drag at the base of his neck, making him choke, making him gag–

“ _Can’t you fix him?”_ Loki hears it distantly, as if through a wall of water, and Loki sobs, reaching out blindly. He cannot see: he is in darkness, blind and alone, and when the two familiar hands clasp around his own, he whimpers,  _sobs_ , in desperate relief. The Grandmaster, the Grandmaster is here, he’s with him, and that means that Loki must be safe, that he must be alright, because the Grandmaster hurts him but nobody else is allowed to, nobody else–

 _“He’s very ill,”_  says another voice, deep and full of ungodly resonance, ringing on the air like the distant rumble of thunder. Fireworks burst in the darkness of Loki’s vision, and the synesthesia catches him by surprise, putting him off his guard and making him feel like he’s been dropped in a pool of water. “ _He must have picked up some virus or other…”_

 _“Fix him!_ ” the Grandmaster demands, and Loki squeezes gratefully at the Grandmaster’s hands, clutching at them. He hears the Grandmaster coo softly, feels one hand pull away only to push a little of his damp hair back from his face. Loki’s skin feels like it doesn’t fit, feels too tight and too constricting, and he shudders.

Again, he feels himself gag, but this time it comes to the forefront: the Grandmaster pulls right away as Loki retches into a metal dish, and the hand that holds his head steady does not belong to the Grandmaster - it is colder, more clinical, in its touch. Loki wants to demand who it belongs to, wants desperately to know what is happening, why he  _feels_  like this, but his traitorous tongue is still in his mouth, unmovinng except to allow him to retch again. But then he feels the Grandmaster moving, hears him stepping away–

“Please don’t leave me,” he begs, and it comes in his seidr voice, from his tongue: the cold hand jolts in surprise.

“ _Oh, I’m not– I’m not going anywhere, honey,”_ the Grandmaster says, his voice seeming to echo inside Loki’s skull.

“ _You’ve grown too attached,”_  the cold man says disapprovingly, and Loki whimpers as he feels the Grandmaster’s hands on his neck, playing gently over his jaw. He’s artificially cooled his fingers, leaving them like ice to soothe his skin, and it makes Loki shiver, gratefully leaning into it.  _“He’s just a–”  
_

“ _Oh, Tan-Tan, not now. Just heal him.”_  

“Please,” Loki’s seidr-tongue says again, and the Grandmaster hushes him. Loki feels the Grandmaster’s lips brush against his forehead, and he whimpers as the Grandmaster leans in to murmur directly into his ear.

“ _Behave, kitten,”_  the Grandmaster murmurs, and the words echo on the air, seeming to dance inside the tunnel of Loki’s ear canal. “ _Or I’ll let Tan-Tan here stuff and mount you on a little glass tray.”_  Loki shudders.

“I will,” Loki promises. “I will, I will–” He retches again, and he feels the Grandmaster pull away. Suspended in a sea of darkness, he feels himself lose the thread of his conscious thought, and his head tips slowly back. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
